She leaned back in her chair. She stared. You denied it, remembering that I had called myself Anna. I had to sell out, you see, when my father died, for the estate is in my hands. I wanted John to be proud to be seen with me. '" "Slave?" echoed Jack. It melted her heart. He had found her by the same agency her father had: native talk, which flew from isle to isle as fast as proas could carry it. Spurling had retired for the night. The young male, as she had actually seen him, had been of the sailor type, hard-bitten, primordial, ruthless.
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